


The Journal

by sweetielane



Series: SBI/Dream SMP Zombie Au [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy Bois Inc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Sickfic, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Vomiting, Zombie Apocalypse, just a lil, minor blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetielane/pseuds/sweetielane
Summary: Phil loses his journal and meets a set of twins.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Series: SBI/Dream SMP Zombie Au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097990
Comments: 12
Kudos: 104





	The Journal

**Author's Note:**

> hello, hello, hello! i am back with another installment in my SBI zombie apocalypse au:0 this is the second work in the series but the first work was kinda like a prologue, everything should still make sense here without reading it!
> 
> i had a lot of fun writing this and i hope you enjoy!

About a year and a half into the end of the world Philza had lost his journal. Now if this had been before the apocalypse, he wouldn’t have cared less, but it wasn’t. He was panicking, he was camped on the outskirts of a fairly large city. He knew there were bound to be much hiding out within the city, but he hadn’t anticipated people this deep into the surrounding woods. Yet, they were obviously here because he had woken up to a stolen journal, rations, and the thieves had taken one of his knives. Philza should have been mad about the rations or the knife, but the journal? That’s what truly angered him. 

Could it have been taken as some sort of psychological warfare? Philza had made his fair share of enemies over the course of the apocalypse. Still, he felt like he was never in one place long, had his enemies followed him his far? No, it couldn’t have been. If it was someone with a grudge then why didn’t they kill him when he slept? Philza could only comprehend one other alternative. Teenagers. Only teenagers would be dumb enough and cruel enough to take something as objectively pointless as a journal.

Unless, they had flipped through it, read Philza’s entries, realized that Philza had written not only his daily musings but tactics and strategies. Philza brought a finger to his chin as he pondered, now those could be of value. Especially if whoever stole his journal knew of him from his previous escapades. He  _ had _ taken down quite a few dangerous gangs. On top of being excellent at plowing through zombies. But Philza didn’t even care about his strategies; he cared about his journal because of everything else it held. Excerpts from before the apocalypse, names of people he owed and who owed him. Dates. The dates were especially important. Philza had met far too many people during his travels that had simply lost track of the time, that were driven mad by it. Some had thought it had only been days when really it had been months. Others had thought it had been years when the apocalypse hadn’t even started two years ago.

He had refused to lose track of time, of his identity. And he swore would do that for others. Writing down the birthdays of those he met, in case he bumped into them again down the line. He could give them a piece of themselves back, even if it was just telling them their correct age. He still liked to celebrate the holidays he had before everything had happened. 

Philza ran his hand through his hair, it was all gone. All of his thoughts and memories. Lost. All because somebody decided to go out of their way to be a dick. Philza finished packing up his camp and headed towards the desolate city. He foolishly hoped that if he played his cards right, maybe he could gather who had stolen his journal.

  
  
  
  
  


About a year and a half into the end of the world Techno had almost lost his brother. He had fallen ill, probably because of the changing of seasons. Techno normally wouldn’t have worried too much about a simple cold, but his brother's illness had spiraled into more than that. He could no longer stand, he hardly ate and was getting closer to death by the day. Techno didn’t have many alliances, but his brother was one he refused to lose. His younger twin had always been the weaker one, even before the zombies and countless enemies. 

Back in the days before this all started, when they were fresh in high school, Techno would have to be the one to get his brother out of sticky situations. Whether that be at school, usually with the brothers of girls whose hearts his brother had broken. Or at home, with the much more dangerous threat that was their father. Still, despite being the one who did the protecting, his brother grounded him as no one else could. He gave Techno something to fight for, something to lean upon. If he lost his brother… Techno didn’t know what he would do. If he could even go on living.

So he did what anyone would do, he looked for a way to heal his twin. There was really only one option, and Techno’s pride was surely going to suffer from it. He sighed as he trudged through the ruined landscape that was downtown of the destroyed city. He reached the door of a small pharmacy, one that had survived the initial panic and destruction that came with the end of the world. It was small, two stories, the second story being a fairly large apartment. And it was the current residence of Dream and his small group. The only reason Dream had decided to reside there was to have the monopoly on the last standing pharmacy around. 

Techno knocked a couple of times before someone finally came to the door. It was the youngest of the bunch, Sapnap. Techno couldn’t deny that he was still one of the most capable fighters he had seen. He was only fifteen and two years younger than Techno and still, Sapnap was almost able to hold his own against him. 

“Hey, Technoblade,” Sapnap said casually, even though they both knew under normal circumstances Techno would not show his face around here. He leaned against the doorframe “You must be desperate, huh?” 

“Can I talk to Dream?” Was all Techno gave.

Sapnap looked unimpressed for a moment before throwing his hands up in the air and walking into the pharmacy. “Sure! Why not, I’ll go get him.” 

Techno cautiously followed him inside, standing hesitantly by the door. The shelves were wiped clean of any medicine. All of that was taken upstairs to be secured and protected by Dream. 

Distaste boiled in his gut, Techno would like to think that if he had gotten access to this pharmacy first, he would be more generous with who he gave its contents to. Then again, Techno’s cruelty throughout this apocalypse had continued to surprise him.

His attention shifted as he saw the door leading upstairs open, and out stepped Dream. Followed by Ant, George, Bad, and Sapnap. Techno rolled his eyes. His hand subconsciously shifting to the knob of his axe hanging on his belt. He truly didn’t come here for a fight, but Dream bringing his whole entourage really didn’t sit right with him.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here after what you did last time, Techno.” Dream said from behind his mask.

“I’m sorry for wreakin’ your last base. But look, you’ve got such a better gig goin’ on here.” 

“Mhm.” Dream said bitterly. “No thanks to you. What do you want?” 

“Wilbur’s sick, I need some antibiotics.” 

“Hell no.” Techno froze, then he exploded with anger.

“ _ What _ .” Everyone, save Dream, flinched from Techno’s tone. Techno wasn’t known for being a peacemaker. “Why not? You know me and Wilbur from before this whole thing even started.”

“So? I didn’t care about Wilbur then. Why would I care about him now?” Dream remained aloof as always, but Techno’s blood was boiling and he was uncharacteristically angry. He chalked it up to be stress and  _ not  _ love for his brother.

“You care about  _ me _ . And I’m the one askin’ for it!” Techno shouted.

Dream played with his fingernails. “And you screwed me over.” He paused. “Besides, Wilbur only slows you down anyway. You could do so much more-  _ be _ so much more if you just ditched him. So what if he dies? You’ll be better off without him.” 

Techno heard Bad suck in air through his teeth. Dream’s whole group shifted and fidgeted uncomfortably. They all knew Dream had crossed a line. Dream knew it too if the smirk on his face was anything to go by. Dream was trying to egg Techno on. Trying to get Techno to lash out to prove a point. But Techno’s rage went from red hot to ice cold in an instant. He lowered his gaze at the floor because he knew if he had continued staring at that dumb smiley mask, covering the top half of Dream’s face, for another second he would kill something.

“Take it back, Dream,” Techno said quietly. 

“Pfft, why should I?” He crossed his arms.

“Wilbur’s done nothin’ to you. He’s always helped you out, just ‘cause you have something with me doesn’t mean he has to suffer.”

Dream shook his head. “Techno, you don’t get it.” His voice got cold and dangerous. “I don’t care that you trashed our last base. I care about you holding yourself back. You could just join our group and be on top but you resign yourself to staying with Wilbur for no good reason. Just like back in school. Wilbur does  _ nothing _ for you. He’s just a waste of resources, Techno.”

Techno clenched his fists, he wanted to punch him for talking about Wilbur like that. But he wasn’t stupid, Dream was openly manipulating him. Maybe this would have worked on someone else, but not Techno and not about Wilbur.

“Dream, I don’t care about how you feel about Wilbur. Just tell me what you want me to do to get the medicine.” Techno was tired, tired of running in circles for basic things, tired of fighting, tired of losing, and tired of being worried.

Dream snorted, but Techno could tell he was upset Techno hadn’t given in to his pettiness. “You heard of Philza?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“Sources tell me he’s nearby. I want you to take something from him.”

“What do you want?” Techno said apprehensively, all he had heard about Philza was that he was insanely good at killing zombies and any human who was wronging him. Techno would rather not be on his bad side.

“His journal.” Dream smiled.

Techno pursed his lips together, grabbing something personal like that was dangerous. In a world where nobody had many possessions, sentimental things like journals and stuffed animals held a lot of value.

“You want me dead?” 

Dream shrugged. “I need that journal, you need medicine. If Philza kills you that’s on you.” 

Techno sighed, “Fine. When do you need it?” 

Dream laughed, “That’s the spirit. As soon as possible!” He continued, “Doubt Wilbur can go much longer anyways.” 

Techno scoffed and turned to walk away.

“This is a waste of medicine, Wilbur’s going to die either way,” George whispered to Dream, but Techno still heard it and he stopped in his tracks.

“Eh, that’s not my problem.” 

Techno quickly walked up to Dream and yanked him by the front of his hoodie, shaking him.

“What. Is he talking about, Dream?”

All four of Dream’s companions were quickly pointing weapons at Techno. Dream just laughed. 

“Hmm, bring me back one of Philza’s knives and I just might tell you.” 

Techno scoffed in disgust and tossed Dream away from him. He went to leave, before pausing at the door, looking back at Dream.

“You’ve changed, Dream. You’re disgustin’ now.”

Dream only laughed and saluted. “Right back at ya, Technoblade!”

  
  
  
  
  


Once Techno had left and was a safe distance away from the pharmacy, he held his head in his hands and screamed. There was just no alternative, he couldn’t just steal the medicine, he wasn’t equipped enough to take on all five of them head-on. And as Techno hated to admit it, he didn’t want to kill Dream yet. Sure they had screwed each other over a handful of times during the apocalypse. Purposefully stepping on each other’s toes to get a rise out of the other, but that had been familiar. They had done that to each other before the apocalypse. The only problem was, stepping on each other’s toes now meant stealing rations, blowing up bases, spreading lies about the other so no one would help them out. Gone were the days of jokingly shoving each other in the hallways of school. Or taking the others parking spot. Or besides being on the same team, constantly trying to outdo the other in basketball.

Techno hadn’t been lying, Dream had given into the freedom and chaos of this new world to justify his shitty ways. But Dream hadn’t been lying either, Techno had done the same. In some ways, Wilbur was a reflection of Techno. In the good ways. But Dream was also a reflection of Techno, a warning. If Techno had even a smidge of authority as Dream did, he feared he would be just like him.

None of that mattered though, it was getting dark soon, and that was when he would strike. There was a fifty-fifty chance Techno would die trying to rob Philza, but that was something he was willing to risk to save Wilbur. Even with that clear chance at a solution, unease still settled in his gut about what George had said. Why would Wilbur still die? Dream surely wasn’t dumb enough to kill Wilbur, or even hire somebody to kill him. He knew that that would only result in the bloodshed of everything he cared about. So Techno would get the journal  _ and _ the knife. Techno didn’t doubt that if someone was out to get Wilbur that he couldn’t protect him. Still, it would be nice to have that peace of mind.

  
  
  
  
  


Finding Philza wasn’t nearly as difficult as he thought it would be. He had known Philza to be older and a man who kept to himself, so Techno first searched the surrounding woods, following the smell of a fire. And, holy shit, that  _ worked _ ? He had found Philza’s camp after only an hour and a half of looking. The sun had set but Techno knew he still had a long night ahead of him before he could act. Philza didn’t seem to be going to sleep anytime soon and after he turned in Techno would have to wait a considerable time so that he was sure he had entered REM.

Speaking of Philza, the man did not look like someone who had taken down countless crooked gangs. His clothes, while not exactly clean, hadn’t been covered in rips and blood like Techno’s were. He wrote in the journal for a bit, before stuffing it in one of his bags. He was very calm and seemed to be at peace throughout the entirety of the night. Something Techno could not understand. He and his twin were always fidgety when camping outside of their established base. They were always on edge. Maybe that had been because of their tricky upbringing, though. Maybe the apocalypse had nothing to do with it.

Hours passed and Techno finally felt comfortable enough to make his move. Quietly he dropped from his perch on a nearby tree and made his way over to Philza’s camp. Philza didn’t sleep in a tent, he slept in the open. Sleeping in the open was so incredibly dumb to Techno, he didn’t understand how it could be productive, tactically. Techno then noticed a blade in Philza’s hand. Held tight as he slept. Techno didn’t worry too much, however, he saw the other two that lay near the bag where Philza’s journal resided. As long as Philza didn’t plunge that knife into Techno, he didn’t care. Quickly and quietly Techno unsheathed one of the knives and grabbed the journal as quickly as his shaky hands could manage.

Before he bolted out of there, he noticed some salmon jerky. If he remembered correctly, that was especially high in Vitamin D. Something that was always good when you were ill. Techno hated stealing other’s food, but he hated seeing Wilbur suffer more. So with the knife, journal, and jerky in hand, he ran to the city with an urgency he hadn’t felt since the beginning of the apocalypse.

When he reached the pharmacy again, the sky began to get lighter, even if the sun hadn’t risen yet. He pounded on the door. No response. He pounded again, and again and again. Nothing. He even threw rocks at the second-story windows. He growled in frustration. Either Dream was messing with him or these fuckers were really asleep. Maybe Dream was awake but he was pissed Techno came so early in the morning, so he ignored him. Whatever. Techno wasn’t going to waste his time. He would come back later in the morning to deliver Philza’s stuff. For now, he could go back to the suburbs where his base was and make sure Wilbur was still breathing.

When he got to the base, the stillness unsettled him. He could barely bring himself to open Wilbur’s door. Afraid that he would only find stillness in there as well. Instead, he found Wilbur, being the exact opposite of still. He was thrashing and squirming about, quietly muttering to himself while his face was scrunched up in pain or worry. He was sweating heavily but all the blankets were thrown off him. Techno rushed over, restraining him so he wouldn’t hurt himself.

“Wilbur! Wilbur, it’s me, wake up!” Techno said, a panic in his voice.

“ _ No _ !” Wilbur wailed, tears spilling, as he struggled harder in Techno’s grasp. “Please, dad!  _ Please _ ! I’ll be quiet! I will! Please!” 

Techno resisted the urge to flinch away and instead tried his best to hug Wilbur whilst he struggled. Hoping the act of affection would pull him out of his nightmare. Techno didn’t cry, but seeing Wilbur have to relive time spent with their father so painfully made a lump form in Techno’s throat.

“Wilbur, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s Techno, alright? It’s just me.” Techno tried again, his voice much softer this time.

Wilbur didn’t wake up, only stopped thrashing and his sobs died down to sniffles. He was still mumbling but it wasn’t panicked or worried like before. Techno lifted himself off of Wilbur, sitting at the edge of his bed. He hadn’t slept much since Wilbur had fallen ill. He wanted to, but staying in Wilbur’s room was dangerous because Techno didn’t know if he was contagious. And not being in Wilbur’s room was dangerous enough as is, not even with the factor of being asleep. Techno needed to be awake, alert, and nearby in case, Wilbur needed him. 

He knew he wouldn’t do Wilbur any good if he too got sick. And his severe lack of sleep would set him on that path if he wasn’t careful. He gave in to himself and, leaving both his and Wilbur’s door open, finally went to his bed. He set an alarm on his wristwatch for three hours and allowed himself to fall into a tense sleep. 

He woke to the sound of a high pitched alarm from his wrist, and retching from across the hall. That couldn’t be good. Had Wilbur been throwing up before? No, no even tired Techno would have remembered that. He rushed over to the restroom where Wilbur lay hunched over the toilet. Wilbur finished vomiting and wiped his chin as he looked at Techno weakly. 

“So I’m guessin’ you’re not feelin’ any better?” Techno glanced at Wilbur’s hand, then quickly into the toilet bowl. “Wait- Wilbur were you throwin’ up  _ blood _ ?” 

Wilbur went to stand before almost tumbling over, Techno rushing to catch him. “It would appear so, yes.” He said almost sarcastically.

Techno guided Wilbur back into his bed. “Don’t worry, I got all I need to get you some antibiotics. Then you’ll be okay again.” Techno said, sitting on the edge of Wilbur’s bed.

“Techno, I don’t know.” Wilbur started his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “You don’t need to go out of your way for me-”

“Uh, yes. Yes, I do. Wilbur, you’re family. You’re my brother. I don’t want to hear you talk like that again.” He stood, pinching his nose. “I’m leavin’ now. I’ll be back with the medicine soon, Wilbur.”

“Wait, Techno!” Wilbur almost shouted as he reached for Techno’s sleeve. “Please, don’t be gone long. I don’t know how much time I have left.”

“You’re not  _ dyin _ ’, Wilbur. I won’t let you. I’ll be back.” 

Techno refused to acknowledge Wilbur’s sniffles as he left, refusing to look at Wilbur at all. If he did come back to Wilbur’s corpse he refused to have his last image of him be one that's expression was clear abandonment. Wilbur wouldn’t die. There was no way. Techno had all he needed. The journal, the knife, his axe, and shotgun. He would be back in two hours at most.

  
  
  
  
  


It was mid-morning by the time Philza made it downtown. He kept his senses on high alert. From what he could gather, there was a fairly large population living in the area, so he doubted there would be an overwhelming amount of zombies, but still, he didn’t know how capable the residents here were. He also gathered that the majority of the survivors in this area were still fairly young. Most being a high school or early college age. Dangerous. From his travels, he learned that kids, left unsupervised and traumatized by the apocalypse, became just as dangerous as the zombies. 

He flinched as he heard a gunshot ring out from not too far ahead. Even though Philza was walking in the middle of the once smooth road he couldn’t see where the shot had come from. Fallen debris from buildings and overturned cars blocked his view. 

Curiousity getting the better of him, he jogged to where the shot had been fired only to find a kid facing a swarm of zombies. He unsheathed his katana and leaped into the fray. Working in the kid’s blind spot to finish off the zombies the kid was, admittedly, making quick work of.

“Need a hand, mate?” He chuckled, striking down a zombie.

“Not at all, but I’ll take free help any day.” The kid replied and Philza laughed. 

They quickly cleared the herd of the undead and the kid finally turned to face Philza. After a moment of recognition, the boy’s eyes widened and he fell backward.

“P-Philza?” He stuttered, now on the ground trying to inch away from him.

“You know me?” He asked, pointing a finger to his own face, Philza had met many people but he couldn’t remember this kid. “You don’t look familiar…”

“Well, I mean- We’ve never  _ met _ before. But everyone knows of Philza.” The kid’s eyes were still blown wide and he had his hand tightly clutched on his axe.

“Mhm, but, have you’ve ever seen me? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” 

Surely he hadn’t gotten  _ this  _ lucky. The first human he comes in contact with seems to be the perfect culprit for his missing journal. Maybe Philza was just desperate for answers but the kid’s overly terrified reaction was jarring in comparison to his attitude while fighting zombies. It seemed logical that he could be the thief.

“I-” Hm. Philza just couldn’t tell if this kid could be the guy. Philza assumed it wouldn’t hurt to push the subject just to see his reaction. He squatted in front of the kid.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a journal lying around, now have you?” 

The boy flinched. Bingo. But before Philza could even act the boy took a wide swing of his axe at him. Philza dodged, if only by a hair. The boy took Philza’s loss of balance as an opportunity to scurry off. Philza had to act fast. He pulled out his pistol and fired a shot dangerously close to the younger’s ear. He didn’t know why but he didn’t want to kill this kid. Maybe it was his prowess during the fight or his fearful look in his eyes as he realized who Philza was. Either way, he had spared him and decided to fire a warning shot instead of a lethal one, mercy he would not have bestowed upon an adult.

“I’ll give you one chance to turn around and explain yourself.” The boy halted instantly, and hesitantly held out his hands in the air. He turned around slowly and walked back towards Philza. “Good, so,” Philza sat on the pavement. “Got a name?” 

“Techno.” He said warily, sitting down as well.

“Mhm, and how old are you, mate?” Philza placed his chin in his hand. He needed to keep the air light so the kid wouldn’t run off again.

“Seventeen.” 

“Then you’re old enough to know not to steal people’s shit,” Philza said, accidentally allowing a tinge of his bitterness to seep into his voice.

Techno looked startled before maintaining a neutral face. “I needed it.”

“Why would you possibly need my journal.” 

“It was the only way to get some medicine.” He said as if it explained everything. Philza sighed because, one: it definitely explained nothing, and two: Philza had had plenty of medicine in the bag right next to the bag that contained the journal. So obviously something wasn’t lining up.

“Care to elaborate?” Philza was becoming increasingly confused, and increasingly restless. Techno seemed to be as well, there was something crucial he was missing.

“My brother is sick. A friend of mine-” He stopped himself and tried again. “There’s a guy around here who has the pharmacy under lockdown. He wanted your journal in exchange for some medicine so I took it.” 

“Some friend-” Philza scoffed. Techno flinched.

“He is  _ not  _ my friend.” He seethed, “Not anymore.”

Philza simply stared for a moment, studying the teen’s features, he was anxious. While he was still upset, Philza could understand where the kid was coming from. With a family member’s life on the line, he would have acted the same way. He sighed and stood, offering a hand out to Techno. He hesitantly took it.

“You know, I had a whole bunch of medicine you could’ve just stolen and cut the middleman out completely.” Techno’s eyes widened at that. He seemed to internally slap himself. “So let’s do that, yeah? I’ll treat your brother with what I got and you give me back my journal and we’ll call it even.”

The kid’s face suddenly clouded in suspicion. “That’s way too generous. I  _ steal _ from you and you help me? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

Philza laughed, “Do you make it a habit of actively trying to stop yourself from getting help?” Techno flushed before his features steeled over.

“I just don’t want to be in debt to people.” 

And Philza could understand that, in fact, he understood a lot about this kid. He saw a lot of himself. 

“No debt, I just want to help a kid out if I can. So what do you say?”

And for a moment Techno looked like he was going to agree. Then as quickly as Philza’s hope had come, it vanished. 

“I want to… but I can’t.” He held out his axe in defense but continued. “Listen, you seem nice enough. But I didn’t just need the medicine. I need intel too. Someone’s after my brother and I need to know who. Dream’s gonna tell me if I give him your knife.” 

Oh shit. Huh. He had almost forgotten about the knife... 

“So if I show up with just the knife and not the journal, he’s gonna know somethin’s up, and then we’re both in trouble.” He pinched his nose with his free hand and sighed. “And I’m already in hot water.”

Philza needed to play this off coolly. He could still get through to this kid and get his journal back. He just needed to lighten the mood.

“Your brother seems to be a lot of trouble.” He chuckled.

Techno’s eyes narrowed and he shifted his stance to be more combat-ready. Okay, so lightening the mood mission failed. Great.

“What are you tryin’ to say?” His voice oozed with a challenge. Like he dared Philza to even insinuate harming his brother. Loyal kid.

“Sorry, sorry, that came out wrong.” Philza put his hands up in defense. Trying hard to keep a smile on his face. He  _ needed _ this kid to trust him enough to get his journal back. “How ‘bout this? You let me give your brother this medicine I have and I’ll stay with you guys until you figure out who’s after…?”

“Wilbur.”

“Wilbur. That way you two can have an extra pair of hands helping out, I can have my journal, and we can all have peace of mind.” Philza clasped his hands together and smiled as wide as he could.

Techno lowered his axe and pondered the notion for a while. His mind seemed to be considering a million loopholes Philza could potentially wriggle his way through. He stared at Philza for a moment before answering.

“Okay.” He sheathed his axe. “But, if you even  _ think _ about touchin’ Wilbur with anythin’ but kind hands… I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He spoke with a finality that gave Philza the impression he had killed for his brother before. He nodded and decided that he would very much not like to die at Techno’s hand.

  
  
  
  


The walk to Techno’s base was quiet. Techno would occasionally point landmarks and other people’s bases out knowing that Philza had yet to become familiar with the town.

Which reminded Philza.

“How did your middleman, Dream, you said his name was, how did he know I was here?”

Techno looked at Philza for a moment, he looked as though he had just begun to ponder the thought. 

“I dunno.” He shrugged, “Dream knows everyone and everyone owes him something. He’s got eyes and ears everywhere.” 

“So he probably already knows we’re together, then?” Philza asked.

“Yep. Especially because I was on my way to his base. No doubt someone saw us. I doubt they’ll know it was you, but it won’t take Dream much to piece it together.” He paused, “Even more so when I don’t come to get the medicine.”

Philza hummed. He had a strong feeling from the look in Techno’s eye that he and Dream had a history. Maybe it started after the apocalypse started, or maybe it was older. Either way, the longer they walked the farther out of the city they got. They were in an extremely normal suburb right now. 

“Didn't pick the most interesting place for a base, huh?”

Techno chuckled at that. “It was Wilbur’s idea. He said somethin’ about hidin’ in plain sight. Dream will always be a target because he’s at the most desired buildin’. Wilbur and I, though? We’re out of sight, out of mind.”

“He seems smart,” Philza commented, Techno seemed to be more relaxed when recalling his brother.

“Sometimes.” He smiled, watching his feet as they walked. “He focuses all his brains into one thing and then forgets everything else.”

Philza just smiled and they spent the remainder of their journey in a much more comfortable silence. Techno only speaking up to point out the house the two had been staying at.

The air became tense, Philza could practically  _ feel  _ the anxiety coming off the teen in waves. Techno almost seemed to falter the closer they got. 

“You alright, mate?” Philza turned to ask when he realized Techno had stopped walking. “We’re almost here, aren’t we?”

Techno only nodded in affirmation. He swallowed thickly and lowered his gaze to the ground. Philza waited patiently.

“I don’t want to go in there and find him…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You know.”

“Well,” Philza said, closing the distance between the two and putting a hand on Techno's shoulder. “We’re not doing any good for him out here, now are we?”

Techno didn’t respond but he did meet Philza’s eyes. He was still afraid, Philza could tell. However, Techno’s eyes held a vigor that settled something in Philza’s gut. Maybe it was fondness. He decided then and there that whatever the other side of that door held, whether it be a child’s corpse or another mouth to feed, Philza would be there to help. Techno had wormed his way into Philza’s heart and by proxy, the brother he held dear did too, and he had yet to even meet the kid. He supposed seeing a kid with so much love and loyalty for another human even after all changes in the world made Philza feel hope again.

Techno opened the door to the house calling his brother’s name to alert him that he had arrived. 

There was no response. 

Philza knew that that probably meant nothing good, given the fact that it was probably after midday by now. Still, if Techno’s brother was really as sick as he said then it wasn’t unreasonable for him to be sleeping. Philza shut the door behind him and followed Techno down the hallway and into an unlit room.

Philza’s eyes immediately landed on the figure on the bed. Techno rushed over to his brother and shook him gently, telling him to wake up. Philza held his breath in the doorway, waiting for Wilbur to respond. The boy definitely looked sickly, his skin was pale and oily. His hair, which was only a couple shades darker than Techno’s, was matted and stuck to his forehead. Techno was still shaking him as lightly as he could. He seemed to be getting more frantic with every second his brother didn’t respond.

“Did you check his-?” Philza began.

“ _ No _ !” Techno shouted, not even looking at Philza. “He’s not- he’s not  _ dead _ .” 

Philza didn’t respond, hoping that Wilbur would prove his suspicions wrong.

“Wilbur.  _ Please _ .” And for a moment the world was still, the air felt heavy. Philza felt for Techno. Then the boy stirred. 

Wilbur groaned and Techno breathed out a shaky laugh before throwing himself on top of his brother. The former yelping in surprise.

“Techno?” He gasped, he was definitely alive but it was obvious by the way exhaustion pulled at his features and voice that he was ill. “Are you alright?” 

Techno released him from the hug and held his shoulders.

“Are  _ you _ ?” He asked.

“Oh definitely not, I-” His gaze landed on Philza. “Who is that?” 

He asked Techno, his eyes never leaving Philza. Wilbur seemed on edge and panicked by his presence. Philza was reminded of the fact that the brothers did not come in contact with others often. He wondered when the last time they saw an adult was.

“Oh,” Techno turned to face Philza quickly, before facing Wilbur once more. “That’s Philza. He’s got the medicine for you.” 

Wilbur sputtered, “We’re going to owe a debt to  _ Philza _ ?” His voice was shrill with panic, “Yeah, I’d rather not. I’m really fine. We don’t need-” He cut himself off with a nasty coughing fit, he doubled over as the coughs racked his body.

Techno looked frazzled and like he didn’t really know what to do. Philza was quick to act, however. He sat beside Techno on Wilbur’s bed and pulled out some peppermint water from his medical bag.

“Here you go, mate.”

Philza smiled as he handed the boy the drink, these two seemed to be very untrusting, so he tried to keep his face calm and at ease. Wilbur looked up at Philza as he desperately tried to gasp for air. He hesitated before eventually taking the water. After the coughing fit subsided, Philza was the one to speak. 

“You boys don’t owe me anything. I’d just like to help.” He paused before he chuckled. “That and my journal back.” 

Wilbur looked confused. “We don’t have your journal, though?”

There was a beat between the three of them and Philza looked at Techno expectantly.

“Actually, Wilbur.” He began. “Yeah, uh, I stole it.”

Wilbur’s eyes doubled in size. “Why would you do that?” He shouted.

“Dream wanted it in exchange for some medicine for you, Wilbur. I wasn’t just  _ not _ gonna get you it.” 

“Ugh, you went to talk to Dream? Even after the shit, you pulled?” Wilbur threw his head back down into his pillow, he looked drained already.

“Wilbur what did you want me to do?” Techno huffed, “It doesn’t matter. Philza and I came to a different agreement so Dream’s out anyways.”

Wilbur held an intense gaze at Techno for a moment before sighing. “Fine. Just… don’t do that again, please.” 

Techno stood, before walking out of the room he spoke, “Just let Philza help you.”

With that, he shut the door and left the two of them alone. Wilbur looked a little anxious again with it just being the two of them, so Philza hurried to busy himself with getting the correct medications out of his bag.

“So, what have you been experiencing and how long?” He asked, Wilbur didn’t respond until Philza made eye contact with him. At that point, he then snapped out of his stupor. 

“Um, for the last four days, I’ve been coughing a lot. Obviously. Also, I haven’t been able to eat.” He seemed to ponder for a moment and Philza waited patiently. “I did throw up blood this morning, too.” 

“Oh, well that’s definitely not good.” Philza gathered a little bit of an idea of what he could have. Pulling out the proper medicine.

“Heh, yeah. It’s not the greatest.” Wilbur said, he seemed ever so slightly more comfortable.

“Can I feel your forehead?” Philza asked and Wilbur went rigid. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Yeah… yeah, sure. Go ahead.” 

Philza was a little suspicious by his spooked reaction, but he figured that the apocalypse had been dangerous. On top of that, he had no idea what the boy’s lives were like before this all started. He would be as quick as possible.

“So,” He said, placing his hand on the teen’s forehead. “How old are you?” 

“Seventeen.” He spat out quickly like he was holding his breath. 

Philza flipped his hand around to get a better idea of the boy’s temperature. He was burning up. 

“Oh so are you and Techno-?” 

“Twins? Yeah.” Wilbur said, “He’s older by two minutes.” 

Philza pulled his hand away and smiled. “You two must be very close.”

Wilbur visibly relaxed at the lack of physical touch and returned the smile. “We are, yes.” 

“Hmm. Well, Wilbur. You have a fever, and from what I can gather probably Pneumonia too.” 

“Is that bad? Like, deadly?” He asked, nervously, fiddling with the hem of his blanket.

“Can be. But I have the right antibiotics and some Penicillin, so I’m thinking you’ll be just fine.” Philza smiled.

“Okay.” He breathed, “That’s good. That’s good.”

Philza stood and stretched his back, after giving Wilbur the medicine. “Alright, well, for now, you should just rest and we’ll see how you feel in a couple of days, yeah?”

“Oh- You’re staying?” Wilbur asked.

“Yep, at least for a little while,” Philza answered, noting the unease that had crept back into Wilbur’s features.

Wilbur nodded instead of answering and Philza took that as his queue to leave. He silently shut the door and stepped into the hallway, only to be startled by Techno who was standing in the door frame directly across from Wilbur’s with his arms crossed. 

“Ah-! Jesus.” Philza clutched his chest, “Hello to you too.” 

“Is he okay?”

Philza raised an eyebrow at him, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Techno huffed, staring bitterly off to the side. “He’s in a mood.”

“Mhm, well.” Philza started, “He’ll be okay, he just has Pneumonia.” 

Techno’s attention snapped back to Philza. “That sounds serious.” 

Philza gave a half-smile. “It could be, but I had the right stuff for it. He should recover fast enough. If he gets enough rest, that is.”

Techno hummed. “Okay. Well, do you want to see your room?”

Philza followed Techno to the other end of the fairly large house. Techno had placed him as far away as from Wilbur and himself as he could. It seemed he didn’t care if Philza left in the night, he did seem to care, however, if Philza came near them while they slept.

Fine, he’ll bite. “Seems like Wilbur is pretty wary of me.” 

“Yeah well, you’re not exactly a familiar face.” Techno retorted almost immediately.

“Suppose not. Still, he seemed pretty stiff when I asked to feel his forehead.” 

“Doesn’t do well with the physical touchin’. Especially with strangers.” Techno answers seemed  _ too _ natural.

“Ah, of course,” Philza said, as they walked. “Has it always been the two of you?”

“Pretty much.” Techno took longer strides, probably subconsciously to put more distance between Philza and himself.

“Got any family?” This was going nowhere.

“Nope.” He opened a door, “Anyways, here’s your room.” 

Philza wandered in, taking in what appeared to be the master room. It was in tip-top shape, if not a little dusty. His eyes landed on the made bed. His journal lie atop the comforter. Philza all but rushed over and hastily scooped it up. He desperately flipped through the pages to see everything remained untouched.

“I’m sorry for stealin’ your journal.” Techno shuffled his feet, “I was actin’ dumb.”

Philza turned to face Techno once more. “I understand, mate. I probably would have done the same. I’m just glad we caught each other when we did.”

“Listen, Philza-” Techno started.

“You two can just call me Phil, by the way.”

“Phil. Honestly, I still can’t trust you. I’m sure you understand. I’m lettin’ you stay in our house but I can’t give you all my trust yet. Not with Wilbur as sick as he is.”

Philza understood because truly he did. There was part of him that was very on edge with this whole situation. He didn’t forget Techno’s skills during their encounter with zombies earlier. He was actively allowing himself to be housed by a teen with extreme fighting skills who had already stolen from him. Still, Philza could tell these boys had a strong sense of loyalty when it came to each other and the debts they owed. And while Philza had stated more than once that there wouldn’t be repayment necessary, he could tell Techno and Wilbur both felt indebted to him.

“I understand, Techno. Thank you for trusting me this much.” Techno nodded. 

“I’ll make dinner in a bit. You can rest if you want. I’ll let you know if Wilbur needs you.” He said before shutting the door. 

Philza took in the empty space and threw his book bags and weapons into the corner, also freeing himself of his outerwear. He rolled his shoulders, before practically throwing himself onto the bed. He decided he would write. Before he could even grab a pencil, however, his eyes were closed and his hands fell slack. Maybe he was more tired than he thought.

  
  
  
  
  


Techno felt a million more times better about Wilbur’s health. Sure, Pneumonia was pretty bad and he  _ was  _ worried. But Phil’s calm demeanor had soothed him. Wilbur was also now being treated and that eased Techno an immeasurable amount.

He decided that a stew would be best for dinner, with its simplicity and protein. He waited more than a couple of hours to start cooking, hearing Phil’s snores from his room. Techno felt bad, he was probably exhausted. 

Soon enough, after the scent of the food filled the air, Phil came trickling out. A sleepy grin on his face. He looked considerably less threatening without all his jackets and bags on him, he looked much less legend and much more human.

“Whatcha cooking, mate?” He asked, scratching his stubble. 

“Just some stew,” Techno answered simply, adjusting his glasses. “It’s pretty much done if you wanna get out some bowls.”

Techno paused for a moment as Phil presented him with two bowls to fill with stew. This was… different. Techno had never felt this comfortable around an adult before. And this moment right here was filled with such domesticity. Sure, he and Wilbur had nights like these all the time, but never with an  _ adult _ . 

Techno swallowed and filled the bowls. He and Phil sat across from each other at the dining room table. It was dark now, the house was illuminated by the fireplace and some candles. Phil all but inhaled his food.

Techno looked at him from over his glasses. “You like it?” He said with a small smile.

“Techno, you can really cook,” Phil said with an intensity that didn’t match the subject of stew.

Techno chuckled at that. “Thank you, Phil.”

He may be wary of Phil, and that wouldn’t change overnight, but he couldn’t deny the warm feeling in his chest that he felt when he made Phil smile. It was the same feeling he got when he and Wilbur laughed together.

Techno didn’t pause to think about what that meant.

They both went back to eating in comfortable silence when a crash sounded from down the hall. They were both up in an instant, Techno’s hand already on the knob of his axe. He didn’t miss the way Phil’s eyes widened when he had realized Techno brought his axe to dinner. Whatever, that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the crash that had definitely come from Wilbur’s room.

“Hey, Wil-?” Techno started as he began to make his way to his brother’s room.

“I’m alright!” Wilbur shouted back, cutting him off. He then stumbled out of his room and into Phil and Techno’s sight. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.” Wilbur was using the wall to hold himself upright. Techno and Phil both visibly relaxed and Techno sighed before walking over to Wilbur.

He helped steady Wilbur and walked him over to the table sitting him at the head of the table, between Phil and himself. “What are you doin’ up?”

Wilbur shrugged, “The food smelt good.” He said nonchalantly.

Techno gave him a flat stare even though Wilbur wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You know I would’ve brought you some.”

Again, Wilbur just shrugged, Phil stood. “I’ll grab you a bowl.” 

Wilbur flinched slightly before muttering a quiet thank you. Techno shoved a spoonful of stew in his mouth, but he kept his eyes trained on his twin. Phil was right, Wilbur  _ was  _ jumpy. He was never like this around adults before the apocalypse. Granted, the last time Techno and Wilbur had been around an adult. Well. It wasn’t great.

Wilbur must have sensed Techno’s eyes staring at him because he whipped his head towards Techno and gave him a look.

“What?”

Techno shook his head and glanced at his bowl. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” To which Wilbur let out a puff of air, annoyed.

Phil returned with a bowl full of stew. He placed it in front of Wilbur.

“You should eat slowly, mate. It’ll be easier on your stomach.” 

Wilbur simply nodded and began to eat. Techno couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him, but he chalked it up to his sickness.

Phil made a couple more attempts to elicit a conversation out of Wilbur, only to get a nod or single-syllable response every time. Techno kept looking harder and harder at Wilbur, his mind just couldn’t place what was off about his brother. He hadn’t even realized he was still staring until Wilbur slammed his spoon on the table.

“If you have something to say just  _ say it, _ Technoblade!” He shouted.

Techno only flinched at Wilbur’s outburst because he really was too ill to be throwing one. In all honesty, if Wilbur had been in perfect health an outburst would have been completely normal, but as it stood Wilbur had been uncharacteristically—

Oh.

He had been too quiet. 

Wilbur hadn’t been this quiet since before when they traveled with their father. And sure maybe it  _ was _ his sickness but the outburst just proved to show that maybe it wasn’t his pneumonia, maybe it was the other factor.

“ _ Well _ ?” He shouted again, and Techno noticed how his hands were trembling, and how he was sweating. Techno opened his mouth to respond.

“Try not to strain yourself, mate. You’re still very sick.” Phil spoke before Techno had the chance to.

Wilbur’s eyes widened as Phil placed a hand on Wilbur’s arm, attempting to calm him. Wilbur swatted his hand away and quickly stood, backing away from the table.

“Wilbur, calm down. Everythin’s fine.” Techno said rising and stepping towards his brother.

“No! Everything’s  _ not _ fine!” He yelled, taking another step backward. “I can barely fucking see straight and-” He gestured wildly at Phil. “And I don’t even  _ know  _ him!”

“He’s not going to hurt you, I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Well, this wouldn’t be the first time you brought me straight into danger, now would it?” 

Techno froze. Wilbur seemed to realize the implication of what he had said and done the same. They stared at each other for a moment, seemingly sharing the same memory. The same pain and uncertainty that came when recalling what life had been like at the beginning of the apocalypse. What life had been like with their father.

Wilbur sighed, “I’m sorry.” He said and then he walked down the hall and into his room without another word.

Phil stood from his spot at the table. “Techno?”

Techno ran his hand over his face. “He just doesn’t do well around strangers.”

  
  
  
  
  


Phil decided that he would offer to clean up and put dinner away, feeling mostly responsible for the brother’s argument. Techno seemed grateful and quickly retreated to his room for the night. Phil pondered the situation he had put himself into, both boys seemed like they had a lot to work through, and there was a lot Phil didn’t understand. Still, as he finished tidying up and made his way to his own room he couldn’t help but feel like he had made the right decision by opting to stay by the boys’ side. 

He didn’t sleep much that night, the nap he had taken earlier definitely didn’t help. The day's events weighed heavily on his mind, everything catching up to him all at once. He had started the day confused and infuriated, and had ended it with- hopefully- a new set of allies. It had been refreshing to see some kids who still had compassion for each other. It made him want to keep fighting again, it made him remember that there was still a whole life to live and he had the chance to help two boys live theirs. The only thought that still tugged on his mind was the question of who was after Wilbur. That was the whole reason Techno had accepted Phil into their household. An extra set of hands to figure out who was after his brother.

Just as sleep had finally begun to take him there was a pounding at the front door. Immediately, Phil’s stomach dropped and he was up, grabbing his pistol. He rushed out to the living room and positioned himself in front of the door. Techno came running out of his respective room holding a shotgun. His chest was heaving and he had a wild look in his eyes. Phil signaled, silently, that he was going to open the door.

Cautiously, he swung the door open but found no one. His eyes scanned the abandoned neighborhood, but he saw no one. Phil then looked to the ground and found a note. Picking it up and giving it a quick glance over he couldn’t help but feel utterly confused. He knitted his eyebrows. And turned back towards Techno, note still in hand.

“Who’s Schlatt?” He asked.

Techno’s eyes widened and froze. “What?”

“This note,” Phil said, handing it to Techno. “It says, ‘Watch out for Schlatt.’ Do you know him?”

Techno didn’t answer, instead staring at the piece of paper. He flipped it over a couple times. 

“If this is who I think it’s from,” Techno said. “Then we need to move.” 

Phil swallowed thickly and shut the door, locking it. “Techno, who is Schlatt?”

“Wilbur’s old friend. They didn’t exactly end on a good note.” He said, shoving the paper in his pocket, “No thanks to me.” He added bitterly.

“So it’s probably Schlatt, then? The one who’s after Wilbur.” Phil and Techno walked over to a couch, they sat almost entirely in the dark, neither bothering to light a candle. 

“I’m not sure. They were good friends, I never liked him much but… I don’t know, I wouldn’t put it past Schlatt.” Phil could barely make out Techno’s expression in the dark, but he looked deep in thought.

Phil looked at his watch, it was late. “Well, we shouldn’t wake Wilbur now, since he’s finally getting rest. We can handle this in the morning, okay?”

Techno met Phil’s eyes and Phil was once again reminded how  _ young  _ these boys were. Something inside Phil screamed to shield these kids from the world outside, but they had already seen and experienced so much, now all he could do was help guide them down a good path.

Techno nodded curtly. “Okay.” He stood and left for his room. “Goodnight Phil.”

Phil remained on the couch, “Goodnight Techno.” 

About a year and half into the end of the world Phil had found two reasons to fight.


End file.
